Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 115

Sullivan flicked on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. He propped himself up against the pillows and fixed Megan with a deep gaze, “What do you think?”

Megan had no idea.

With a faint smile, Sullivan’s voice was so husky and magnetic at night, “Megan, I’ve never truly loved anyone, and I don’t even know what it feels like. But this is the first time I’ve cared about a woman– cared enough to ditch my rules, cared enough to chase after you and fix your leaky faucet,”

He paused, then continued, “Or do you think I’m just looking for someone to warm my bed? You should know, if it were just about that, there are plenty of pretty women out there to satisfy that need”

Megan wasn’t one to indulge him, “I’m not stopping you.”

Sullivan chuckled softly. Under the light, his features were chiseled, the edge of his eyes and brows carrying the charm of a mature man. Megan knew if he wanted the company of young girls, he wouldn’t need to spend a dime.

Sullivan gently caressed her cheek. In a hushed tone, he said, “Maybe it’s age catching up with me, but I find myself longing for a family life. Megan, I want us to have a child, a boy or a girl… But more than that, I want your affection, like the kind you write about in a diary, where your eyes and heart are filled with only me.”

As Sullivan spoke, he thought he was just sweet–talking her, and his words were just a ploy to keep her by his side. But when the words left his mouth, an unexpected thought bubbled up within him.

Forget the past and start over with her. And to truly love her.

Yet that absurd thought was just fleeting. Sullivan mused that perhaps domestic life had softened his mind that he literally wanted to love Megan genuinely.

Sullivan’s tender words were moving, and he was the kind of man Megan had pined for in her youth. As he spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a stir of emotion. It’s just that the hardships she had endured in their years of marriage made her hesitant to again place her feelings in someone’s hands, especially someone like Sullivan. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Megan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She leaned against the headboard, quietly staring at the opposite wall.

It took her a long time before she spoke in a low voice, “Sullivan, I don’t know if you’re sincere, but if you are, it’s too late for us. A world meant for three is too crowded! And I don’t know if this is just a whim… Today you say you want my affection, but you might discard it like an old rag tomorrow, not even sparing it a glance.”

Her voice trembled slightly, “Sullivan, falling for someone takes courage, and I’m no longer that 18– year–old girl.”

Megan finished speaking, her gaze lingering on him. There was a touch of sadness, her eyes misty with

tears.

Sullivan gently wiped away her tears, whispering, “Megan, I’m not being impulsive. I’m serious… I want to start over with you!”

After he spoke, he tenderly cradled the nape of her neck. Kissing her, he was nearly moved. He thought

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that years of marriage must have softened even the sturdiest of hearts. He guessed he must have developed some fondness for Megan.

But he knew well enough that this fondness was not love. He wanted Megan and her affection, and he also made concessions for her. He told her that from now on, he would let Bianca handle all matters related to Cressida–he wouldn’t see Cressida anymore.

Megan turned to look at him, and even though every ounce of reason told her not to be moved, her emotions tipped the scales. She decided to trust him once more.

In a soft voice, she said, “Sullivan, maybe I’ll take years or decades to find the fondness I had for you. Will you still want it then?”

As she spoke, her bathrobe hung loosely and her hair slightly disheveled, exuding a fragile beauty.

Sullivan kissed her tenderly.

After a long while, he pulled her into his embrace and murmured, “I will.”

Sullivan left for a project in Crossover City for a week.

Megan didn’t reach out to him much during that.

Sullivan had expressed a desire to start anew, but Megan still held on to a woman’s pride–she didn’t want to appear too eager. With age, she learned that men don’t value women who are too forward.

Men’s excitement fades, and they grow tired. Especially after three years of marriage.

But Sullivan, every night around ten, would call her, and if it was too late, he would send a WhatsApp message. He was as attentive as a man in the throes of first love, or as a husband deeply in love with his wife. He was so good to her that Megan felt it was almost too good to be true.